


The Miracle of Dante Quintana

by becausecolours



Category: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys being sad, Future Fic, M/M, domestic life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 04:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6786124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becausecolours/pseuds/becausecolours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years down the road, Dante tells Ari stories about living in Chicago that he's never mentioned before. Ari continues to think that Dante is probably the best thing that's ever happened to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Miracle of Dante Quintana

“You know, I tried making myself act a little more like you when I moved to Chicago.”

Dante was reading their old letters again, or rather, had just finished reading them, when he made the comment. Ari frowned as Dante collapsed next to him on the couch. He put an arm around Dante as he took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“Why would you have wanted to be like me?” 

That question might’ve sounded self-deprecating coming from anyone else, and maybe there was a touch of regret in Ari’s tone at how dumb he’d been as a teenager, but he was genuinely curious, too. He couldn’t imagine why on Earth Dante would have ever wanted to be like him. Dante had always possessed a bravery that Ari admired, even if he couldn’t completely understand it. Dante could understand and express his feelings so easily– Ari envied that. He had no idea how Dante could ever want to be anything other than himself.

Dante sighed and smiled a sad sort of smile. That look always managed to tear Ari up inside. Had that face belonged to Dante before he was jumped? Before he moved to Chicago and had to deal with Ari’s awful pen pal skills? Was it somewhere there inside of Dante all along, lurking so that one day it could make one of the most beautiful boys in the world look like he had a tragedy in his heart?

“I was young and fuckin’ sad about stuff all the time. I mean, I wouldn’t feel like that knowing what I know now. But back then?” Dante shook his head and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, I think it just seemed like nothing could get to you. Sort of like a really lame superpower,” he teased, “Ari the Stoic.” 

He ventured a look at Ari, who was looking back at him with all the intensity he hadn’t been able to process when he was younger. Dante smiled, so much warmer than before, and brushed a few strands of hair that had fallen out of Ari’s hairband back behind his ears. 

“I mostly just tried not to care about anything, you know? Like, if I didn’t care about stuff nothing would bother me. It wouldn’t bother me if you didn’t write back, or if I didn’t have feelings for girls the way I thought I was supposed to.”

He stopped just short of describing how much time he’d dedicated trying not to care about Aristotle Mendoza. It didn’t need to be said. He wasn’t trying to make Ari feel bad, he was just talking. Talking things through, so he could process. Dante thought he was starting to sound like his mom, but tucked that idea away to be horrified about later.

“It wasn’t a huge success. Obviously. Whenever I did get a letter from you, or something like that art book, I just...couldn’t not care about it. Or about you.” 

Dante laid his hand out in the space between him and Ari on the sofa. It didn’t take Ari long to link his own hand with Dante’s.

“Please don’t try to be like me.” He squeezed Dante’s hand and tried his best not to meet Dante’s eyes. “I don’t even wanna be like me sometimes. I like you. I love you being Dante Quintana, not anyone else.”

It was still hard for Ari to say stuff like that sometimes. But it was good for him, good for both of them. That had always been Ari’s motivation. Dante. Doing right by him, making him happy. He didn’t want Dante to stop being the type of guy who cried about birds getting hurt, and always looked at the stars like they had something new to teach him. Ari didn’t want Dante to stop being the type of guy who cared.

“You’re not so bad, you know. I love you a lot, too.” Dante leaned over to kiss Ari’s cheek, and Ari held him close like he couldn’t bare to not touch him.

Sometimes Ari felt like Dante was some kind of miracle of the universe. The fact that Dante looked back at Ari like he felt the exact same way about him was another kind of miracle. 

They stayed curled up together for hours, while Dante talked about Chicago, and art museums, and dreams of finally going to the Louvre so he could make good on his promise to see "The Raft of the Medusa" in person. Ari chimed in when he could, and listened intently when he couldn’t think of anything to say. Dante was still the talker out of the two of them, but Ari was making steady progress.

When he could see Dante’s energy starting to fall and his eyes starting to droop, Ari pressed a kiss to Dante’s forehead and carried him back to bed. 

Ari thought the universe might’ve made a mistake in allowing him the miracle of Dante Quintana. He didn’t feel like he could ever be as good as Dante thought he was, but God– if it meant he got to keep being with him, he would spend every day trying to.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a lot of feelings about Ari and Dante, and I can't seem to stop writing about all of them.
> 
> As always, if anyone is willing to help me translate this into other languages, please send me a message or something! It'd be nice to make this fic accessible to more people.
> 
> Also feel free to send prompts or fic ideas to me on tumblr @faintlyglow!


End file.
